No More Secrets
by jes004
Summary: Irina and Sydney have an enlightening early morning dialogue.


This started as a part of another fic, but it didn't really blend in with the tone of story, so I decided to tweak it and make it a stand alone. The story takes place at the end of Season 5, but veers off slightly from the show's ending. As per usual, the characters are not mine. I only borrow them for a little while. I love feedback and will adjust the story if I think it will improve the story.

Thanks for reading.

***

Sydney jolted awake, feeling slightly disoriented. It took a moment for her to remember that she was in the guest bedroom of her parents new home. With Vaughn away on an extensive assignment, they had asked her to bring Isabelle and spend some time with them.

Having her parents back together had taken a little getting used to, but considering the events leading up to their reconciliation, she shouldn't have expected anything less.

It had only been six months since that horrifying day she thought she lost her mother to the rabid pursuit of Rambaldi's ultimate achievement and her father to Arvin Sloane's pursuit of the same. She wasn't sure how many lives her mother had, but her last 'death' had seemed so final.

Barely through the burial arrangements, she was shocked to come one day and find her mother sitting in her living room, casually glancing through a magazine. Feeling like she was playing some bizarre role in a soap opera, Sydney soon learned that her father was recovering in a nearby hospital. According to her mother, she had taken him there after she found him wrapped in C-4 and unconscious at the mouth of the Rambaldi cave. Her mother, it turned out, was the one who had taken the C-4 from her father and sealed the Mongolian cave for eternity.

The CIA was still investigating the identity of the woman who had dropped through the roof in Hong Kong. Sydney was almost certain her mother knew who it was, but she didn't seem inclined toward sharing.

She shifted slightly to get a better look at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early, only a few minutes past four. Deciding to check on Isabelle, she slid out of the bed and was almost to the door when she heard it; the unmistakable sound of a car door closing. It must have been what had woken her in the first place. Her room faced the front of the house and she padded to the window that overlooked the circular drive. Pulling back the curtain offered a clear view of the dark, late model town car parked near the main door. A man in a dark suit stood quietly near the rear of the car. Sydney immediately pegged him as a government agent, his alert stance evident even from a distance.

The front door opened and her parents walked out onto the porch. She could see that her father was dressed in business attire, complete with tie. Her mother, on the other hand, had simply thrown on an old robe, belt cinched snugly to her waist. Judging by the barely concealedreaction of the agent when he saw her, even the ugly terrycloth couldn't diminish her mother's beauty.

Quietly, she slid the window open, just enough to hear the conversation below.

"Jack, be careful." Irina said anxiously, as she grasped his hand, momentarily stopping him at the top of the stairs. "You aren't fully recovered and the doctor told you to take it easy."

"I'm not a child, Irina," Jack responded a little testily. At Irina's look, he gave a small sigh and smiled. "I promise I will not overdo it."

"And you won't put yourself into unnecessary danger."

"I already promised-"

"Jack," she said, sharply.

"You have my word."

Irina looked into his eyes. "I love you."

Sydney saw her father lean in to kiss her mother goodbye. She turned from the window, not wanting to witness the passionate embrace. Grabbing her robe from the hook on the bathroom door, she headed downstairs.

"Sydney," her mother looked at her in surprise, nearly running into her in the hallway. "I was hoping we wouldn't wake you."

"What's going on? Where are they taking Dad?"

"There's been an incident and your father was called in as an advisor."

Sydney stared stonily at her mother. "This incident. You don't have anything to do with it, do you?"

"No." Irina searched her daughter's face, "but I'm interested to know why you think I would?"

Sydney shrugged. "It's just really odd, you and Dad burying the hatchet."

Irina cocked her head slightly, eyes intently studying her daughter. "This bothers you?" Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I see that it does."

Sydney shrugged. "I guess I'm just not used to you and Dad being so-" She broke off.

Irina took Sydney's arm in hers. "Come sit with me on the porch. It's time we had a talk."

Sydney hesitated.

"This is your chance to ask me anything you want. You may never have this opportunity again."

Nodding, Sydney followed her mother to the patio and pulled up a chair next to her. The predawn sky was still dark, but a full moon provided adequate light for the deck. "You told Dad you loved him?"

"Yes."

"Do you really mean it, or is it just something you say because it's what he wants to hear?"

"The simple answer, sweetheart, is that I really mean it. With our history, I'm guessing that isn't going to be enough of an answer?" Irina saw her daughter's nod.

"You seduced him, deceived him, and betrayed him. You didn't want his child, but deliberately got pregnant and now, thirty years later, you say you love him. I think anyone could see this is a problem."

"Don't forget the sex. Your father has always been quite exceptional in bed." Irina laughed at her daughters' horrified expression. "I'm kidding. Well, except about your father being-"

"We're talking about my father, not one of the hordes of men you've used over the years," Sydney interrupted her fiercely. "I won't let you hurt him again."

"Sydney, your father and I love each other. Our journey may have been a little more convoluted than some and it almost didn't happen, but we found our way back. It wasn't easy and it wasn't overnight. The past still has a way of rearing its head and causing pain, but we work through it." Irina reached for Sydney's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I have said some terrible things to you in the past, but I need you to know that I did want you, that I always wanted you."

"You told me-"

Irina cut her off. "I know what I told you. In our business, sometimes we have to hurt the ones we love in order to keep them safe. You are very tenacious, refusing to let things go and always so forgiving. When I left you at the bank, I couldn't allow you to follow me. It was better that you hated me, so I told you the one thing I knew would hurt the deepest."

"I don't know how to tell the lies from the truth, anymore."

"Perhaps it's time for you to know the whole truth. From the beginning."

"Your version, of course." Sydney could help her cynicism.

Irina nodded. "Fair enough. You know, of course, that I was sent here to spy on your father, but before that happened, I spent four years training at a secret KGB facility. I was barely twenty-one when I was given my first assignment. There were several young women in my class, all being trained for similar swallow missions. We were all given dossiers on our mark and told to memorize every detail. I still remember opening your father's file and staring at his photograph."

"Please don't tell me you fell in love with his picture."

"Oh no, quite the opposite. It was a terrible picture. He had a crew cut, which was pretty typical of the times, but your father has rather large ears and the style did not suit him. His expression was quite serious. Some of the girls teased me about getting a cold fish for my assignment.' Irina paused, allowing the past to wash over her. She had graduated at the top of her class and the other students had been resentful of her status. Some didn't bother to hide their glee when they saw the file she had been given. Their taunts bordered on the cruel side, mostly involving graphic descriptions of her 'frozen assets' mating with his 'popsicle'. She had ignored them, knowing her mission was considered the most difficult. There wasn't any doubt on her part, though, that she would succeed, and when she was finished, she would have the last laugh.

"I assume there is more to this story?" Sydney said, waiting for her mother to continue.

"I'm sorry, I was just gathering my thoughts." Irina yawned. "This may take a while. Why don't I make some coffee? Would you like a cup?"

Sydney nodded. "I need to check on Isabelle. I'll be right back."

***

Irina poured the hot coffee into the heavy mugs and placed them on a tray just as Sydney walked back into the kitchen.

"Why don't we go into the den? There may be something on the news about the incident that required your father's help."

"Do you think the information would get out this fast?"

"I don't know. I'm no longer surprised at how quickly the television crews arrive for even the smallest incidents." Irina picked up the tray and headed to the den.

Sydney followed, picking up the remote control for the television as she entered the room. She pressed the button and the screen flickered on.

"Put it on the headline station, Sydney and hit the mute button. We can watch the captions for any news."

Sydney complied, then sat down on the leather sofa. Irina handed her a mug and sat next to her.

"How was Isabelle?" Irina asked.

"Still sleeping. She shouldn't wake up for another hour or so."

"Then I had best get on with my story." Irina took a sip of her coffee before placing the cup on the end table. "After I arrived in the States, I spent several weeks studying my mark. I wanted to have a better idea of who he was before I set up our first meeting. The dossier they gave me was mostly facts; the name of his parents, where he was born, and other similar information. It told me nothing about the man and I needed to know that to gauge my approach. I studied him from a distance, watching him at the library and in some of his classes. My first impression was that he was a loner who preferred studying to socializing. Then my roommate invited me to one of the frat house parties and to my surprise, your father was there, too."

Sydney looked skeptical. "Dad has never really struck me as the party type."

"True, but he isn't anti-social, either. It was the first time I remember seeing him smile." Irina turned to her daughter, eyes warm. "We all had a lot to drink that night. His guard was down and I remember thinking that it would be a perfect night to flirt with him. Nothing serious, of course."

"Let me guess. Dad didn't notice."

"Of course he did. But there were a couple other women there who were doing the same. I had not foreseen that there would be competition for his interest."

Sydney was dubious. She couldn't remember ever seeing her father with another woman other than her nannies and since they were always old enough to be his mother, she was pretty sure he had not been romantically involved with any of them. "We are talking about Dad, right? Are you sure you don't have him confused with someone else?"

Irina chuckled. "Your father was quite popular with the ladies, from what I could tell. He was smart without the ego and such a gentleman. There was a sense of honor and loyalty about him." Irina turned and grasped Sydney's hand. "You got that from him, sweetheart. You have always been more like him than me."

Sydney nodded, unable to speak.

"I decided to accelerate my timetable," Irina continued. "My plan was to seduce him, gather what information I could over the next year or two and then leave. Only your father surprised me by proposing. It was a bit of a shock because we had known each other for about six months and your father is not very impetuous."

"That doesn't sound at all like Dad," Sydney said, doubtfully.

"I asked him about it several years later. There was a photo I had in my dorm room – the one where I was holding my niece. He said the way I looked at her he could tell how much I loved her and he wanted his child to have that same kind of love."

Sydney snorted. "Little did he know. Instead, you were ordered to have me. So the one reason he married you ended up being a lie, too. Was the baby really your niece or some staged KGB photo?"

"Her name was Anastasia. Katya's daughter. She died of rheumatic fever a few years after I left for America. I suppose that is why Katya tried to help me find my baby. She understood my pain."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I-"

Irina waved her off. "It was a long time ago. Katya, of course, never really got over it." Her sister had visited her in Los Angeles not long after Anya's death. Irina was on the carousel, holding Sydney on her lap as the horses moved up and down to the sound of the carillon. How Katya knew where to find her, she never knew; but Irina had never forgotten the dead look in her sister's eyes. Nor had she forgotten how Katya stared at Sydney. The next time they met, Irina left her daughter at home with Jack. "I wasn't there, but my mother told me that Anya would have lived had she been given the proper medicine. Katya tried to get it from the dispensary, but the drugs were scarce. So she bought the medicine on the black market, but they were placebos, used for research. My mother says Katya blamed herself for her daughter's death. I tried to comfort her once, but she refused to speak to me about it."

"You and Katya were close?"

"Not really. She was our father's favorite and could do no wrong in his eyes. She even married one of the men who served under my father in the Army. Katya was barely eighteen and Sergei wasn't much older. They had Anya not long afterwards. He was sent to Prague in August of 68. He didn't come back."

"That must have been hard for your sister."

Irina shrugged. "Katya barely noticed he was gone. She had married him to please our father. Anastasia was her world."

"You were the one holding her in the photo?"

"I watched her occasionally. Sergei took that picture. He gave it to me right before I left to join the KGB. To remind me of home, he said." It had been a peaceful time, Irina remembered. "Sergei was a proud father and the marriage, while not a love match, was a happy one."

"So you and Katya had something else in common, except Dad loved you." Sydney tried to stifle her anger, but the pain of the past was still too much a part of the present.

Irina ignored the resentful tone, knowing it was a necessary part of moving forward in their relationship. "It is true, I didn't love your father when I married him. You have to remember, Sydney, that I had a job to do and I was quite good at it. In fact, I was happy that he turned out to be so agreeable. It made my work much easier. My training had taught me to plan for every contingency and I had anticipated all of them quite well. Everything was going so smoothly, the KGB decided to lengthen my assignment."

"They ordered you to have a child." Sydney kept her voice even, not willing to betray the hurt she felt at this.

"No, not then. That came later. I was already pregnant with you when the order came, so I was relieved I didn't have to fabricate a reason to have you."

"Your stories keep changing. Why should I believe what you are telling me now is the truth?"

"Other than my word, there isn't much for you to base your trust on. Your father has a copy of my file; he keeps it in the safe in his office. You can check the dates, if it will help."

"You've already searched his safe?" Sydney was incredulous.

Irina felt a stab of anger at the implication she had once again betrayed Jack's trust. "It's our safe, Sydney," she responded, more evenly than she felt. "I don't need his permission to access it."

Sydney shook her head. "Okay, so you were pregnant before you were given orders. It really doesn't make a difference either way. You slipped up and got lucky was what your KGB handler wanted anyway."

"I didn't slip up. It was your father's fault…" Irina stopped. "I'm getting ahead of myself. The next part is important for you to know." She ran a hand through her hair, tucking the long strands behind her ear. "Everything was going so well that I didn't really notice what was happening. Who would have guessed from that photograph and his dossier that your father had a romantic side? The little things he would do. The notes I would find in my homework, the gifts; some expensive, some not, that would show up in a coat pocket or dresser drawer. I never knew what he would surprise me with next."

Irina laughed at her daughter's dubious expression. "I know; he hides it well. We had been married almost three years and I was just finishing my Master's Degree in Literature. Two months before the graduation ceremony he was called away on a job. They told him to plan to be away for several of months, which meant he would not only miss my graduation, but also the trip to Australia we had planned as a celebration. I hadn't realized how much I wanted him to be with me when I received my diploma until I walked across the stage. When I arrived home, I found a beautiful bouquet of flowers on our kitchen table. There was a card and a jewelry box on one of the placemats. Inside the box was this necklace." Irina lifted the chain from under her robe for Sydney to see.

"That's the necklace you wore when you turned yourself in," Sydney said, suspiciously.

"Yes, it's the same one."

"So even then you were attempting to stroke Dad's ego; to make him think he actually meant something to you!"

"The necklace is important to me. That's why I wore it,' Irina answered, flatly. "It was the only piece of jewelry I took with me when I left. I had to hide it, since the Soviets would have confiscated it for the good of the Russian people."

"Well, you obviously were successful." Sydney said, her tone making it clear it was not meant as a compliment.

"Yes, I was." Irina responded briefly, preferring not to elaborate. Hiding the necklace was not easy and she nearly got caught. It had been the most significant tie she had to both Jack and Sydney; her one consolation through the years of separation. It had been stolen from her once and she had killed the man to get it back. "When the doorbell rang, I was half expecting it to be your father – because that was just something he would do. Instead, it was the landlord's wife. She had prepared a casserole for my dinner. I was so disappointed he wasn't there and it was at that moment I realized I had done the one thing I wasn't supposed to do. I had fallen in love. I must have started to cry, because the landlady came over and gave me a hug and patted me on the back. Then she handed me an envelope and told me my husband had left if for me, along with the other gifts, before he went away. Inside was a plane ticket for Australia."

Sydney paled. "Where in Australia?"

Irina grinned. "I think you already know. In the rush, I forgot my birth control pills. Of course your father didn't have any protection, either. Other agents would cheat on their wives when on assignment, so they always had a ready supply. Jack wasn't like that. Cheating wasn't a part of his nature." Irina leaned over and lightly cupped Sydney's chin. "You weren't planned, but we were both were very happy when we learned you were one the way."

Sydney felt a wave of emotion, but willed the tears away. Her mother excelled at manipulating people's feelings; she would not bow so easily. Her father seemed to have forgotten the past betrayals, once again falling under her spell. Granted, Irina had saved his life, but her mother had always played a deep game. Though her motives were not yet clear, Sydney was sure there was an underlying reason for the reconciliation. Irina had already maneuvered her father into securing her pardon.

"I'm sure Dad would have been just as thrilled had he known about Nadia. Until Arvin Sloane confessed his liaison with you," she replied, voice hard. "I don't know how you've convinced Dad to forgive you, but I can see right through you. What is it you really want?"

Irina debated her response. She had promised her daughter the truth, but some truths are better left unsaid and she hadn't been very receptive to what had already been shared. Picking up her coffee up, she started for the kitchen.

"That's what I thought. It's all talk and no substance," Sydney jeered.

Irina stopped and turned to face her daughter. "This business teaches us many things. Perhaps the best and the worst is how to compartmentalize. Your father understands this."

"What you really mean is you've convinced Dad that it wasn't personal. I don't know how anyone can separate the two. How can you say you love someone and do the things you did? You stole government secrets from him. He could have been executed as a spy. He almost died, anyway. You didn't see him when he came home so drunk he couldn't make it up the stairs to the bedroom, or how he would lock himself in his room and drink all weekend, barely coming down to eat."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart."

"I'm not finished. You slept with his best friend and had his child. The only good thing about that was he learned of it years later. It probably would have destroyed him if he had found out then. Nadia was a good person and I have to give Dad credit; he never treated her like she was a reminder of your betrayal."

"She wasn't."

"She wasn't what?" Sydney had enough. "How many more lies are you going to tell me?"

"Sydney, I promised you the truth. Sometimes truth takes-"

"Time. I got that message. So when is that time going to be?"

"Very well. I hoped I wouldn't need to tell you this, because of what she meant to you. Nadia was Arvin Sloane's daughter, but she was not your sister."

Sydney felt like strangling her mother. "So now you are rewriting history?"

"You can check with Jack when he comes home. We both had her DNA tested and it came back with the same results. She was the daughter of Arvin and Emily Sloane. Her real name was Jacqueline, according to your father. Sloane apparently thought she had died. Elena must have stolen her when she was born."

"You still had Sloane's child."

"I had another child, yes. But he was Jack's child, too."

"He?" Sydney felt her world shift.

"I learned recently that my baby was a boy. I only held him for a few moments before they took him away. I was so drugged; I barely remembered what he looked like. Later, they told me I had a girl and that she had died. Of course, they knew I wouldn't believe that my child was dead. They knew telling me I had a girl would insure I would never find my baby."

"You said that Dad was-

"The father? Yes. I was pregnant before I slept with Sloane. When Jack told me that Nadia's DNA matched Sloane's I knew she couldn't be my daughter. I told your father and he did his own investigation."

"So that's it." This had to be why her mother had teamed up with her father. It made sense that her Dad would play along in order to find his son. "You and Dad are trying to find him."

"No."

"No?" Now she was confused.

"We already found him. It didn't take long, once we knew to look for a boy."

"Where is he?"

"Your brother was sent to America and placed with a devout follower of Rambaldi. He was to take the baby to New Orleans and leave him with a family there, but the plane they were on crashed. July 9th, 1982."

"So he's dead?"

"There were no survivors."

Sydney tried to take this in. "I don't get it."

"Get what?" Irina said, dully. She and Jack were so full of hope when they tracked their son to America. The news of his death hit them both very hard. She had been almost inconsolable. Having Jack by her side had helped, but he, too, was grieving for the child he would never know.

"Why are you and Dad together? If you aren't searching for your son and Dad is now retired, what could you possibly achieve by being with him."

"Happiness," Irina responded, simply.

"I don't believe you."

"Sydney, I have nothing more to offer you. I love your father and he loves me. I want to spend what is left of my life with him. There is no 'end game', no hidden agenda. Just love between a man and a woman."

Sydney searched her mother's face. "You swear this is the truth?"

"I swear. No more secrets."

"Who was the woman who died, the one I chased in Hong Kong?"

"Katya. She found a Rambaldi manuscript with instructions on how to bring the dead back to life. The Horizon was the final piece necessary to complete the process. She wanted her daughter back and she had no intention of letting anyone stop her."

"Why become you?"

"I had the contacts she needed to assemble the machine." Irina settled back against the couch. "I cannot blame her. If your father had died that day, I would have attempted to do the same."

"You really do love Dad?"

"Yes, Sydney, I do. I love you and Isabelle, too. That is the truth.

Sydney searched her mother's eyes and nodded, finally believing.


End file.
